


i take my pride (in asking for you)

by maraudersourwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Attempt at Humor, Crush at First Sight, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Love at First Sight, M/M, Partying, Pride Day, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 08:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16971468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: Liam just wanted his usual Pride Day night, Mason had other plans.And maybe, they're aren't so bad.





	i take my pride (in asking for you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheodoreR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheodoreR/gifts).



> **THIAM TWENTY GAY TEEN WEEK | DAY 1: GAY AGENDA**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I know, the title doesn't make sense.  
> And the summary is basically a clickbait.  
> I take the blame.  
> Bear with me.
> 
>  
> 
> This nonesense came from bunch of weird prompts Med threw my way,  
> because clearly one wasn't enough.  
> It also has something to do with my brain being still pretty much fried.  
> I'm trying my best, I swear.
> 
>  
> 
> Am I funny?  
> No.
> 
> Do I know what I'm doing?  
> No.
> 
> Do I wrote this anyways?  
> Of course.
> 
>  
> 
> None beta'd at all.  
> Messy as hell.  
> Good luck with this one.  
> Enjoy!

 

 

It was Mason's idea to go to a queer bar on Pride Day.

Liam doesn't really know why because he's perfectly fine with getting drunk at home and putting an hour long of vine videos. Maybe sing some Celine Dion from the top of his lungs, if he feels fancy enough.

But no, Mason said that meeting new people was what he needed. That crying in a corner to the Deadpool 2 soundtrack for the third day in a row wasn’t going to help his case. That if he wanted beer, he would have to shower and go out, to the streets, by himself and this way at least he’d have his best friend at his side.

That he’d have fun.

So Liam agrees.

Mostly because Mason doesn’t know what a no means when it comes to making Liam socialize.

 

*

 

Next time, he’ll try to remember that going to buy beer on his own doesn’t sound so bad.

 

*

 

“Why is there so much glitter and feathers here,” Liam grumbles, slapping away the fifth feathered boa that decided to suffocate him to death without a warning.

“What do you mean?,” Mason asks, a huge smile on his lips, while dragging him to the dance floor for the sixth time, because Liam keeps scurrying away from his hold.

“You look like a faerie decided to puke on you,” is Liam’s answer, because there’s no other way to explain what he’s trying to say without the strong visual. Mason is head to toe shining in glitter and Liam knows, for a fact, that that shit will get into every corner of their apartment and by the time they turn 50, if they are lucky enough, it will disappear.

But it doesn’t seem to bother Mason.

“At least I look cute”

Leave it to Mason to find fashionable something as disgusting as puke.

 

*

 

By the 8th attempt of being suffocated, Liam decides to get a glitter shower too.

If he’s going to die, at least he’ll look cute in the process too.

 

*

 

“How drunk are you”

Liam shrugs.

Not because he’s drunk, but because he doesn’t know how you measure being drunk. Is it with drinks? How many drinks are you from metaphorically puking the first meal you ever had in your life? How many sips of vodka are you from just blacking out? Or how far are you from just proposing marriage to the guy across from you at the bar? 

Maybe he is a bit drunk.

He might have unwillingly inhaled enough glitter to have a fucking disco party in his brain too, but who knows.

“I think that guy is the love of my life”

Mason looks at whenever he is looking, then back at Liam and back at the distant point where the most beautiful guy he ever saw is.

And back at Liam once more.

“Okay,” he mutters, taking Liam's glass away, “that’s enough alcohol for you”

Yeah, definitely too much glitter.

 

*

 

The thing with finding the love of your life in a queer bar on Pride Day when you least expect is that, obviously, you don’t expect it. 

Liam has no idea how he’s supposed to make a move, even if Mason keeps saying that he’s not supposed to really make a move because he needs to make the other party interested.

But he’s interested for both of them, thank you.

It might have something to do with the fact that he's a bit more festive than needed.

He just has to think on a really cheesy and disgustingly sweet way to make the guy fall in love instantly with him, so they can get married. It happens all the time in the stories Mason reads online using the incognito page on the browser because he thinks Liam will not see it.

It can happen in real life too, right?

 

*

 

If the really kinky and explicit parts of those stories want to happen too, well.

He wouldn’t mind at all.

 

*

 

“Can you give him my number?”

“What”

Liam slides a paper that he knows looks too scribbly to be actually legible, but if that guy at the other corner of the bar is the love of his life, then he’ll have no problem reading it and they will have babies together.

The bartender doesn’t think the same.

“Thanks, but I’m not interested”

“What”

“Your number? I don’t want it, you’re not really my type”

And that is just a lie, because he knows that he’s everyone’s type. He once asked Mason if everyone was turning to look at him because he was hot and Mason said ‘sure buddy’. It turned out that everyone turned to look at him because he sat over gum and it was stuck in his pants, but Mason still agreed, so there was no point in denying it.

But Liam isn’t interested in the bartender, so he lets the guy get away with his lie.

“It’s not for you,” he replies, “is for the love of my life over there”

In his defense, the bartender does turn to look. But there’s half the queer population of the city in the bar and Liam gets it, he can’t see the shine of that guy’s eyes or the disgustingly disarming that smile is because only the chosen love of his life can and not every peasant out there. 

He gets it.

But he still judges the bartender really hard.

“The love of your-- How much did you have to drink?,” the bartender, Nolan says his name tag, asks.

“I’m fine” 

He’s not. The room has been spinning too much for his taste, but he has a firm grab on the counter, which means he’s not going to crack his head open and show the l contraband of glitter and feathers he has roommating with his brain. 

“Just-- give it to him. On that table,” there’s 10 tables and his finger keeps moving around but after a couple of seconds, Liam manages to point just who he wants. “Him. The love of my life. My number. Go.”

The bartenders looks at him funny, the same way Mason looks at him when he tries to convince him that the best way to eat fries is with ice cream, and nods.

The perfect plan to woo the love of his life, in motion.

 

*

 

Turns out his finger didn’t cooperate with him at all.

 

*

 

“Who the fuck is he”

That’s Mason’s voice over his shoulder, and Liam is pretty sure that at some point of his life Mason developed teleportation, because he was at the other side of the room 10 seconds ago and it only took Liam's phone screen to lit up to call his attention.

“The love of my life,” Liam replies to his best friend while sending 5 winky faces that are the perfect amount to let the gorgeous guy know he's really interested but not look desperate.

Just like Mason said.

“So it worked?,” looking over his shoulder, Mason peeps and Liam doesn't hide the screen this time because he's proud and--, “That's too many emojis”

And maybe he just needs a little bit of extra practice with texting, but that's fine. 

He already found the love of his life, who cares about the amount of emojis anyways.

“Of course it worked. What do you mean? It was a flawless plan”

“Or maybe you just have a sick luck”

Liam snorts. Jealousy talking, that's what it is. But he gets it. 

Not everyone can be lucky like him.

 

*

 

Yes, he does have a sick luck.

The kind of sick that’s dying and crawling to its own grave luck.

 

*

 

“You’re not the love of my life”

“Well, isn’t that heartbreaking”

Liam frowns at the guy who just goes and sits at his side, manspreading all of his long limbs, like one of those car washing inflatable man that are near the apartment and that always slaps him when he walks under it.

He wants to punch the guy, just on principle.

“Leave”

If he’s fair, there was two other words and a question mark to make it more polite, but it went missing somewhere along the loud music, the really bright lights and the fact that he’s already hungover at 3 am in the morning on a queer bar.

“Brett, nice to meet you,” the other guy replies sarcastically before showing a small piece of paper he takes from his pocket. “Is this your number?”

Liam leans to look because, first, who even would force someone to read a piece of paper with scribbled numbers in the middle of a dark bar. And second, he has too much glitter in his body to try to remember basic knowledges such as reading.

“How did you get it?,” Liam asks, after he recognize the arranged set of numbers in a very nonsensical way as his own. “Are you stalking me?”

“You wish,” Inflatable Asshole looks at him, up and down, and before Liam can convince his hand that it should be colliding with the guy’s nose because they need to do a last minute adjustment to it, he points at the bartender. “Gave it to me. Told me there was a drunk male version of Tinkerbell asking for the love of his life and he guessed it was me”

“Why you?”

“Because I’m the prettiest?”

“No, you’re not”

“And you’re clearly blind”

This time he does punches him.

And steals his number back.

He has to set things straight, after all.

 

*

 

“Hey!”

“Oh it’s you again,” huffs the bartender. “Give it a rest, I’m not going to serve you any drink--”

If he’s honest, he isn't sure why he decided that jumping over the counter bar was a thing he needed to do in sights of getting his point across. He never, in fact, jumped over a counter. Not even the coffee table at his mom’s house, that’s low enough to basically walk over it. 

And the mix of feathers and glitter in his system that’s clinging to the corners of his being doesn’t help the slightest, no matter how much people make it look like they grant super powers, because Liam still failed to aim the landing of his arm and instead succeeded at landing with his face on the floor.

“Was that supposed to intimidate me?” 

“Yes”

“Oh,” Nolan says and shrugs, making Liam suddenly wish that instead of falling face first into the floor, he had been able to kick Nolan’s face flat.

But he’s not going to be deterred by small lost battles.

“My number”

“Look, I already did that favor to you. I’m supposed to work, not take care of your drunken issues. If he doesn’t text you back--”

Liam is utterly offended that Nolan has the nerve to think that he’s the one carrying the blame, when clearly his whole plan was fool-proofed, instead that it wasn’t because he decided to add Nolan to the equation.

“You gave it to the wrong person!”

“You told me to give it to the love of your life”

“Yes”

“And I did”

“No”

“Oh,” Nolan says, surprised. How can he even be surprised. How dare he.

“Yes, oh”

“You meant the angry one? The one that almost growled at me when I gave the cute guy your number. Green eyes, broad shoulders.”

“The love of my life,” Liam replies and nods because what else can he say? That’s exactly the guy. That’s exactly the one he wanted and that Nolan decided to screw all his chances of real love with.

“He looks like a serial killer, but I’m in no place to kinkshame you”

He is being kinkshamed, he knows. Even when there’s no kink involved. But that’s fine, because he’s doing the exact thing. Who can look at an inflatable man and think  _ yeah, I’d like a guy like that _ .

Weirdos, that’s who.

“Can you give him my number? Just him. No one else”

Nolan nods and takes the small piece of paper. 

It doesn’t help Liam to ease his nerves, but he has to remind himself this is the only chance he has of his super romantic plan to work otherwise he’ll be alone forever.

And he’s had enough of that.

 

*

 

Liam is not pleased by the fact that he tried to get the so called love he deserves, the one Mason keeps bringing up each time he decides to stay in the weekends but that Liam never gets to see, and instead ended up setting up the waiter and Inflatable Asshole who’s name is Brett instead, so he does the only sensible thing everyone would do.

He glares at them while they start flirting in front of his miserable single ass.

And nothing happens.

Because on top of finding the love of his life, he needs to learn how to set people on fire with his mind.

Rude.

 

*

 

“So it didn’t work then”

Liam huffs, looking at Mason and back at the dancing floor, where all he can see is either people looking like aliens by how much they shine or being extra of some kid’s show by the amount of rainbows floating around.

“Do you need a hug? I feel like you do. Come here.”

“Mason, I think I’m having glitter overdose,” Liam mutters, leaning into his best friend, that at this point is the perfect mix between both races in the dance floor.

“Stop blaming the glitter for all of your suffering”

He will blame whatever he wants and not even Mason can stop him from that.

 

*

 

“Yo, Tinkerbell”

“Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I won’t kick you in the shin.”

Why the shin, Liam doesn’t know. But it sounded cool in his head and he’s sticking with his last minute decisions.

“Oh, feisty, I like it,” by his tone of voice, Inflatable Asshole who’s name is Brett doesn’t really like it. Liam doesn’t like it either, or whatever thing involves Brett at all. The only one that seems to like it is Mason, who’s been looking at the glittered abs of the Inflatable Asshole in front of them without moving and with the serious chance that not even breathing either.

“I sent you a text”

“I blocked you”

“Harsh,” he makes a mocking face that’s supposed to be in pain and Liam is two seconds away from punching him again, to show him how a real face of pain is like. “Thought you’d like to get my friend’s number. Someone would say it’s the love of your life”

And just like that, he leaves.  
  
  


*

 

> **Unknown number - Received 03:22hs**
> 
> Tinkerbell
> 
>  
> 
> **Unknown number - Received 03:23hs**
> 
> 212 664 7665
> 
>  
> 
> **Unknown number - Received 03:23hs**
> 
> Text him
> 
>  
> 
> **Unknown number - Received 03:23hs**
> 
> Super bitter that the guy he stared at the whole evening liked me instead. 

 

*

 

He’s proud to say that after that, he blocks Brett back.

 

*

 

“Are you going to text him”

Liam turns to look at Mason, than again, teleported out of nowhere. An amazing superpower he seems to keep on using and it only took Liam all of his teenage years and a Pride Day party to know.

“No”

“You’re kidding, right? You have been going around the whole bar, because of him and I--,” before Liam can even try to understand that the strange wobbly dance Mason was doing wasn’t that he was drunk but a distraction tactic to take his phone, it’s too late.

“What if it’s not him, what if-- MASON GIVE ME MY PHONE!”

It’s also too late when he screams, because just as he finishes, Mason is pressing the send button and tossing the phone back.

What a way to end his life.

 

*

 

The love of his life hasn’t replied and Liam is just going to blame glitter on this one.

The dust of the devil.

That’s why.

 

*

 

“Whoever has us captured will probably let us go if we all yodel,” is the scream that comes from the middle of the dance floor before a horde of people starts yodelling in the true fashion of one of those horror movies involving evil sects.

It would be utterly terrifying but Liam has already be tried to be killed by multiple feather boas, got flirted by the human version of an inflatable man, fell over the bar counter, and harboured enough glitter in his lungs to think that if he has enough hope he might be able to fly.

And there’s still no signs from the love of his life yet.

But at least Mason had fun.

 

*

 

At some point he decides that life is short and glitter is going to kill him from the inside out anyways so he better have some fun as well.

And starts yodelling too.

 

*

 

Of course that’s when the love of his life finds him.

 

*

 

“I hope that’s a cry of war and not that you’re trying to serenade someone,” the voice is sultry and not at all what Liam would have expected but he’s not complaining. Not at all. Not even one bit. “Because if that’s the case, you’re awful at it. You’re lucky that you already found the love of your life”

“Liam, he’s flirting with you!”

Liam doesn't know how Mason was even able to hear that, since he's been in the middle of a yodelling contest not so long ago. Or why does he even think that yelling that in front of the gorgeous guy is appropriate at all, but Liam doesn’t care.

All he cares about is green eyes and the most gorgeous smirk he ever saw in his life, that strangely makes him want to punch it and kiss it away all the same. 

“Yeah,” Liam breathes out, blinking at the most gorgeous guy he's ever seen up close. 

“Do something,” Mason hisses and Liam would ask what if it wasn't for the hand on his back pushing him forward with more strength that Liam remembers Mason ever having.

And an extra set of lips on his mouth.

 

*

 

The good thing is that he doesn’t get punched by Mason’s drunk and very cupid like antics.

 

*

 

The very good thing is that he gets kissed back too.

 

*

 

“So, about the love of my life thing--,” Theo, the love of his life, that’s how he’s called, says.

Liam blushes, in his mind already planning the best way to change his name quickly, move states, countries and maybe even planets. Mason will have to learn how to pay rent on his own because there’s no way he’ll pay for a rent he’s not going to use.

All because of his stupid idea of going out, when everything Liam wanted was to stay home, have fun and--

“How about a first date next?”

And maybe Liam doesn't have to move after all.

Not if his luck keeps smiling at him like that.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can scream at me in the comments in whichever language you like.  
> I swear I know how to use google translate like a pro.


End file.
